Throughout The Years and Far Away
by Siluial
Summary: [ItachiSakura] This was the mission that changed her life. It brought unto her pain and sadness unimaginable. Yet through that sorrow, she shall find...what, exaclty?
1. Prelude to a Dream

**A/N:**_ I've been writing like a devil lately, and managed to pump out the next two chapters for this fic throughout the day. It's been harder than usual, because I've picked up some bug or another, and have been running a nasty fever all today. Yet the itch to write hit, and hit hard, so I had to give in._

_At first I couldn't even come up with a proper title. My muddled amd fried brains mangaged to generate _I'm Writing Thi_s, _Because Through Sakura, I Can Achieve My Impossible Dream of Sexing Up Itachi_. Yeah. That seemed a little too long...So, I went with something that linked with Sakura's constant thoughts of the past (It's funny - I think it might be a song title from the movie Voices of a Distant Star - correct me if I'm wrong. I've never seen it)._

_I apologize for gramatical errors. I don't know anyone well enough to ask for a BETA, and my email's severly whacked, so that system wouldn't work well right now anyways. Sorry for the shortness. Following chapters are longer. Please enjoy. Or don't. Drop me a review to let me know what you think._

_Thanks for reading. _

**Disclaimer:** _I always forget these things...I do not own Naruto, etc.,etc. You guys know the drill. _

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**Throughout The Years and Far Away**

She'd spent nearly two years making a name for herself, killing when it suited her fancy, slaughtering helpless villages and moving from place to place like a cloud in the sky. Anyone who stood up to her was cut down; the amazing "Copy Ninja" of Konoha had trained her, after all, and her skill surpassed imagination.

The night was cold, her breath puffing out behind her as she ran, ducking through the trees and brush, clothing fluttering and flapping out behind her. Her face wasn't happy, but it wasn't upset either. She emitted a calm and cool aura, mind composed and collected, planning out her plan of action. The presence of her pursuers tickled at her subconscious, flanking her from each side, closing in on her steadily.

Interest kept her from leaving them in her wake. She held her pace steady, but did not increase it, even as they grew closer. No one had been daring enough to actually _chase_ her in a long, long time. Even the most elite of shinobi had given up on her. She smiled to herself, reveling in the feeling of adrenaline spiking low in her belly, senses tingling. Gooseflesh prickled along her legs and arms.

There was the sound of rushing water suddenly, and she smelled the sharp tang of moving water. The stream wasn't too deep or wide; she could easily get past it if she used a bit of chakra to keep her above the water should vaulting it prove to not be enough. It looked cold, though. Bushes to her right snapped to the side, and dark forms bolted from it edges of blades flashing in the moonlight.

Cool still not breaking, her eyes narrowed; she dispatched her new opponents, blood flying about her in a gruesome symphony, splattering on the ground, on her clothing and skin. The warm liquid quickly turned cold on her cheek. In a mere moment, she was soaring over the water, pumping chakra into her feet when she lost her momentum, pushing off of the water and into the air again without breaking the surface.

As she landed heavily onto the opposite bank, she ducked a blow that would have probably knocked her unconscious, or in the worst case, cracked her skull. She dropped into a crouch, hair flying about her face, hands flashing out. The kunai she had yanked from her pouch lodged snugly between the man's ribs. He sputtered and fell, leaving her to move on.

The tip of a sword was suddenly under her chin. A very large sword. Her eyes traveled up the wide blade to its holder, a man of impressive height, broad shoulders swathed in a dark cloak. His skin was pale, his eyes sharp and what looked to be a fang peeked from the one upraised corner of his mouth.

Carefully, she moved, seeing how much he would allow, shifting until she was standing, the tip of his sword never leaving the underside of her jaw. The man smirked wider. "You've given us quite a chase." His voice was low and rumbling, a harsh edge of coldness grating in her ear. The blade left her neck, trailing down the center of her chest lightly, lowering until it was pointed at the ground. He licked his lips, smiling darkly at her, and she was surprised at the sharp teeth revealed. A knife flashed into her hand from the holster on her thigh.

"I'm going to enjoy this," the man hissed, hefting the heavy blade easily. His eyes gleamed. And in a flash they were locked together, breaking apart, feet shuffling, weapons flying. His blade was so big that when he swung at her middle, she managed to jump and land on it. His strength was truly amazing – he was able to hold both her and the blade horizontally with hardly a strain. She could feel his muscles beginning to clench, preparing to jar her from the sword's surface, so she flipped off and away from him.

As soon as her feet touched the hard ground, her knees shook violently, immediately buckling and dropping her. Her fingers dropped the knife she held, it became a little harder to breathe. Panting, her vision blurred, her head pounded.

Her body went limp, tremors running through her. Landing chest first, her cheek hitting the dirt, she managed to force her eyes open. As his footsteps sounded nearer, she finally noticed the vivid red clouds adorning the hem of her opponent's black cloak.

* * *

"_Are you sure you can handle this?" His voice was uncertain, tinged with doubt and obvious concern. _

_The person to whom the question was directed was a perfect wall of calm, even in the face of something so dangerous. "There's no one else who can. All the medics we have aren't nearly strong, skilled or experienced enough. And we need someone who can stand the strain of constantly healing themselves."_

"_That's not what I meant."_

"_I've given this a lot of thought. I'm alright with what taking this mission entails."_

But she had been a liar. It had hurt too much for words, the kind of ache that stops one's heart and freezes the body. To see the betrayal and anger in her comrade's eyes, see it shining there as they had hunted her, had hurt her more than anything ever would; it had torn her apart.

* * *

She slipped in and out of consciousness throughout the night. Her body was sore and numb, too tired to even tremble. She was slung over someone's shoulder, head jolting painfully with each step. 

When she awoke again, there was light, whether from the dawn or dusk, she didn't know. The air was still bitterly cold, and a fog worked its way around the ankles of whoever carried her. She watched it swirling in hazy patterns, eyes fluttering shut every now and again, blurring and sharpening repeatedly until she woke completely. Her head began throbbing without warning, and she couldn't supress a moan. She felt rather than heard her captor's low, malicious chuckle.

She didn't know how many more times she fell into the blackness, but she reemerged to find that the pace had slowed. The mist was gone, but it was getting dark out again. There was a slow, quiet murmur of voices, the soud of something (opening?), then the air got slightly warmer. The dull sounds of the night were cut off with a click. Definitely the sound of a door closing.

Quite unexpectedly, she was dumped onto what felt to be a straw filled matress. The chill creeped back in now that she was on the floor, washing over her body and numbing her nose. Her eyes managed to crack open into slits just in time to see a cloak swirling out of the room, before the door slammed and plunged her into pitch black.

She didn't go back to sleep this time. Instead, she struggled to sit up, hands roving along the walls and floor to gain her bearings. She was pressed with an overwhelming need to urinate, and as her eyes adjusted, she noticed a metal pot in the far corner. Crawling, then stumbling to her feet, she made a slow trek to the chamber pot, fingers fumbling with the ties of her pants. The material bunched around her ankles and she crouched, completeing her task.

It was harder to stand from the crouch, tie her pants back into place, and make it back to the pallet laid out on the floor. Dropping onto it, she cradlig her aching head, twisting her fingers deep into her hair. She tucked her legs up into her chest.

And that was how she remained until the door opened and light engulfed her.

The nightmare began.

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_Bust gawsh-a-mighty, do I love FullMetal Alchemist...  
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	2. Looking Into Eyes of Red

**A/N:** _Save me. I've become obsessed with fan-made sountracks. They're just _so_ addicting..._

_Anyway, I'm putting this next chapter up now, in hopes that it'll be acessable by tonight, or tomorrow, at the latest. FFnet's a little slow sometimes._

_Enjoy, and as usual, thank you for taking the time to read._

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**Chapter 2**

**Looking Into Eyes of Red**

She breathed deeply despite her aching ribs, and concentrated on forcing what little chakra she could spare into her palm. It glowed with a pale blue light before she tucked it against her side, feeling it pulse into her body and mend the broken bones. She finished, the pain flaring harshly for a moment before it was gone completely. She kept her eyes tightly closed against the nausea that throbbed in her temples and belly, knowing that if she even opened them a crack she would vomit. And she couldn't afford to loose any food she received – the energy she needed to keep healing herself was quite taxing, and she was still incredibly drained from the fight with the swordsman.

Time had blurred for her. She wasn't sure what day or time it was, nor how long she had been in her dank, dark cell. The only thing she was sure of it that every day, without fail, her captors came in and did their work. She'd experienced torture before, and she was surprised that they hadn't done as much damage as they could have. She hadn't even been forced into any sexual situations yet, and it puzzled her as to why they were being so lenient.

She didn't have much time to ponder. Footsteps sounded outside the door, and she heard the tumblers in the lock turn as the portal was opened. Her dirty face furrowed, mouth frowning. Her tormentors had already made their visit for the day. She winced as the harsh sound of the door's hinges creaking.

Light hit her eyes, and she hissed as it burned them, her pupils shrinking quickly. She made out the pattern of red clouds on black, and was reminded vividly why she was here, of why she had spent the last two years as a fugitive and a murderer. The door closed with a thump, and the soft glow of lights remained, although less harsh now.

"Sit up, woman," commanded a cool voice from somewhere above her. She struggled into a sitting position, forcing back the pounding in her head. She tried to bring her head up, and failed, so she wasn't at all surprised when a strong hand jerked her chin up.

Her breath stopped cold. Her entire body went suddenly numb.

Staring down at her was a pair of blood red eyes, black commas swirling around the irises.

_Sharingan._

It could have been only seconds, or it could have been hours before she finally remembered to breathe again. The hand at her chin left, but her head remained upright, staring wide-eyed at the visage of the man before her. There was definitely no doubting that the first step of her long mission was finally complete. She was situated in their main building of operations.

Itachi stared down at the captive impassively, arms crossed beneath his Akatsuki cloak. The girl was filthy, bloody and starved looking, yet she showed nothing that would give proof that she was wounded. _A medic._ His mind held no trace of doubt in the thought.

She was also apparently exhausted, judging from the way her eyes slipped closed and snapped back open every few minutes. Her eyes had just fluttered shut once more when his voice reached her ears.

"Missing-nin number 475 in the standard issue Bingo Book. Wanted for a list of crimes throughout the countries, spanning exactly four and half pages. Known most notably for the slaughter of five ANBU teams in one fight. No known accomplices for any crime, no aliases. Former shinobi of Konoha village. Jounin, though rank can no longer be judged."

Her eyes snapped open. He had to keep the smirk from his face. "Your reputation precedes you, Haruno Sakura."

Silence reigned for long moments. Her sharp green eyes peered at him from their frame of tousled pale pink hair. Keeping hold of her eyes, he dropped into a crouch in front of her, his face close to her own. She was breathing heavily.

"So then, why did you let them catch you?" Something flashed in her eyes. She was quiet for a long time, and he didn't expect an answer.

"I've been playing with fire for a long time. Sooner or later I was going to get burned."

Now it was his turn to be silent. There was something there, in her eyes. Some hidden truth she wasn't going to reveal. He had been sent down into her dirty little cell to find that out.

In the past few months, a lone shinobi had been interfering with the Akatsuki's operations, be it food raids, taking out unwanted associates, or making contracts with possible benefactors. It had become quite vexing after a while. Finally, they had been tipped off as to the identity of the pesky interloper, and had given chase that very night. The capture was surprisingly easy. It was a cause for concern. And so, he found himself, much to his distaste, down in the dungeons.

His face still remained close to hers, making it all the more easy to capture her up in his Sharingan. He wove a world of fantasy for her, sending her into unconsciousness, pushing her thinking mind away so that he would be free to probe without interruption.

He had barely begun sifting past her memories; most of them bright, flowery glimmers of her youth, when something hit him like a blow to the stomach. Mentally, he stumbled, an uncommon occurrence, and tried to figure out what had happened. Another blow hit him, and another, and by the time he realized what was going on, he was thrown violently back into his own body.

The pink-haired girl was shuddering visibly, thin shoulders twitching. He narrowly avoided her as she ducked to the side and vomited. He landed ungracefully on his bottom, arms propping him up while he watched her wipe her mouth furiously. She remained facing to the side, her hair falling down as a curtain to hide her face. She was panting deeply.

Itachi was stupefied, though his face was ever a mask of carefully constructed cold detachment. The girl had managed to throw off the Sharingan? How was that even possible? Men infinitely stronger than she, even her own _teacher_, one of the world's strongest ninja, hadn't escaped the spell of the Uchiha clan's eyes when Itachi felt so inclined to use them.

He needed to report to the higher-ups. Immediately.

* * *

With a swirl of his cloak, he was gone, lantern and all, leaving her once again in the dark. 

"Iwa-san, a man is here to see you."

Iwa Sanosuke's head rose from the files he had been reading over. "Let him in." His eyes watched silently as the dark-haired man slipped into the room. "Uchiha, report," he snapped with authority.

Itachi, having removed his cloak before entering, folded his arms behind his back. "I have been down to see the missing-nin captive, as ordered. It should be noted that she is a skilled medic; each morning when the men visit, the wounds from previous sessions are gone."

"And your investigation? What results did you receive?"

Itachi inwardly grimaced. "None, sir." His superior's face did not register shock, but Itachi knew better.

"What happened?"

The Sharingan user gathered what he knew into some semblance of coherence. "I entered her mind, but before I could uncover anything, she broke the genjutsu, pitching me back into my own body."

Iwa's fingers tapped at the desk in a steady rhythm. "This is certainly news. Let me ask your opinion on this matter. What should we do with her? A shinobi strong enough to break the power of the Sharingan, as well as one who is a powerful healer, would be a great asset to any organization."

Itachi had figured that this question would eventually be asked. "Sir, it is of my belief that were we to let her go, a rivaling syndicate would most certainly enlist her in their services. Yet, it would be a waste to dispose of talent such as hers."

Iwa saw Itachi's answer plain and simply through the unnecessary dialogue. "Very well. I put her under your jurisdiction and responsibility. See to it that she receives the necessities. Handle her how you see fit."

"Yes, sir."

Itachi left the room quietly. His distaste was not evident, though it grew and grew as he went.

* * *

"Up, woman." 

Sakura moaned lightly. He was back, and she didn't think she could handle the Sharingan again in the same day. She didn't move.

His hand clamped about her upper arm like a vice, and she yelped as he dragged her to her feet and out the door. The corridor wasn't long, and she gulped when they neared the stairs leading up. There was no way she could climb those in her condition. She grit her teeth, hitting her shins on the cold stone, pumping her legs in an attempt to set her feet on solid ground.

Itachi was merciless, pulling her quickly up the stairs, ignoring her obvious plight, hefting her over his shoulder when she blacked out. He was secretly annoyed that he should be burdened with an apprentice. Iwa hadn't said it out loud, but the girl was now to be under his tutelage, trained in his own fashion until she could operate under Akatsuki orders on her own. Kisame wasn't going to be pleased with that, either.

_Speak of the devil,_ he thought wryly, noticing his huge partner's form moving up the hallway. He was pulling off his straw hat and shaking water from his shoulders. He noticed Itachi and stopped, turning to walk beside him when they met.

"Raining?" Itachi allowed himself to relax. It wasn't difficult for him to remain aloof and impassive, but he found that he and Kisame worked better when he made himself agreeable.

Kisame nodded, then noticed the limp girl for the first time. "Hey, isn't that the girl I brought in a week ago? I'm surprised she's still moving, with the amount of chakra I pulled out of her." He grinned suddenly. "Going to dispose of her?"

Itachi frowned. "Hardly. I'm supposed to train her."

"What made the boss change his mind?"

"She broke through the Sharingan." Kisame _hmph_'d at that, but wisely chose to remain silent. He accompanied Itachi to the trainee's wing of the building, watching as his partner tossed the girl onto the bed in an unoccupied room.

"You should take her to the medical staff, once she wakes up. Iwa'll want to know if she's got any seals or the like." Itachi made a vague noise of agreement, then closed the door behind him. Taking care of the girl could wait. He had patrol duties to attend to at the moment.

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_Sorry that these chapters are short and lack dialogue. (They seem shrimpy to _me_) I'm trying to get them a litte longer, but my attention has been caught by another project._

_Love you all. Lemme know what you think._


	3. Earning Breakfast

**A/N:** _Here you go - I'm updating a little early because I was already here and thought, what the heck. _

_Poor chapter five of this fic has been sitting, not even a quarter of the way done, on my hardrive for a week and a half now. I'm such a lazy little bee-otch._

_Onwards - you, to the fic, my dear reader, and I, onto editing chapter 2 of Individualistic Monsters. If you're reading that one, too, then know that the next update will be tomorrow afternoon/evening or so. _

_Thanks for reading, guys. Love to ya all._

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He found her awake and sitting up on the bed. She watched him quietly as he pulled off his cloak and folded it over one arm, wringing out his wet hair and retying it into a low ponytail.

"Well, what's going to happen now?" Her voice was low and gravely, proof of her recent imprisonment.

He set crimson eyes on her dirty form. "You are to train as a member of this organization. You will be my student, and follow my orders only. Any hint of betrayal to the Akatsuki and you will be killed without hesitation. Am I clear?" She nodded. "Now, you will come to the medical ward, for examination and any healing required."

Head bowed, she followed him down the long hallways, unwisely not mapping out her position and memorizing the maze-like passages. Her mind was reeling. The past two years had held so much pain and agony, physically, mentally and emotionally. Her pain was finally paying off. The mission was now rolling forward.

* * *

_"I guess I'll pack, then say my goodbyes." She turned to leave. Tsunade's sharp call stopped her abruptly. _

_"No!" Sakura turned back, face confused. "No one can know about this. If we're to pull this off and be convincing, it's got to be a total performance. Even everyone here must think it's real."_

_"Not a soul can know?"_

_"No one."_

_She turned back to the door. Her hand gripped the doorknob so tightly that her knuckles turned white. When she finally replied, her voice held no tremor, only determination and acceptance. "Then I will do my best, if it is for the mission. Goodbye, Tsunade."_

_That was the last time the Hokage saw her._

_The next thing Sakura knew, she was standing with a bloody kunai in hand, several helpless civilians lying dead at her feet. She felt nothing; she was numb. Then Naruto was yelling at her, hands grasping her shoulders tightly, his wide blue eyes holding hers. She could read the raw emotion in them. The disbelief and horror._

_She struck out at him, hurt by what she read in his eyes. She didn't care if the kunai she held cut him; she thought only of escape. And so she fled, heart growing heavier the further she got from her home. Only when night fell did she allow herself to cry. It was the last time she cried._

_A month later, the new issues of the Bingo Books bore her name in bold, fresh ink._

_

* * *

_

She nearly ran into Itachi's back when he stopped in front of a doorway. It had no door, but a canvas flap hung down, muffling the sounds within. Pushing past it, he left her to fumble with the cloth barrier as it swung back to hit her once he had passed.

"Kenishi-sensei?"

"Good evening, Uchiha-san," spoke a pleasant voice from the corner. Both Itachi and Sakura turned their heads in that direction. A tall, lanky man sat beside an infirmary bed, leaning over his patient's arm, which was stretched out on a metal tray. He didn't look up, opting to continue stitching the gash.

He finished with professional efficiency, gently bandaging the wound and giving the wounded man a small, quick nod. He cleaned up his tools, and disposed of his gloves. Turning, he greeted Itachi properly with a handshake.

"You haven't been in here for a while, Uchiha. You've been well, I hope?" He let go to attend to the gray bangs falling into his eyes. He caught Sakura's eye from where she stood behind Itachi's shoulder. "And who is this?"

"She's my new…apprentice." Apparently, Itachi was still a bit sore over the subject. "She has been in the prisons for a while, and an examination would be a needed precaution."

"Ah, yes. Follow me, please." He led them to the other side of the room, through an opening and into a small hallway. Turning to the first door on the left he opened it, ushering them inside. He picked up a clipboard from the rack on the wall and stuck a pen behind his ear

Heaving a sigh, Kenishi gave Sakura a warm look, before gesturing for her to sit on the table in the middle of the room. As soon as she was settled, he plucked the pen from his ear and set it to the paper.

"Name?"

"Haruno Sakura."

He wasn't surprised. Most of the recruits he examined were missing-nin or criminals. He was intrigued, though, that such a young looking girl could be _the_ Haruno Sakura. "Age?"

She paused, and he looked up, almost seeing the cogs and wheels in her mind turning. Living in constant motion and away from proper civilization unlike a normal person could cause one to loose track of time. "Almost eighteen," she finally replied.

The next few minutes were passed as he weighed her and measured her for height. He did the usual reflex and sight tests. Matter-of-factly, Kenishi asked her to remove her clothing, scratching down information in his nearly illegible handwriting. He paused and looked up. Shooting a pointed glance at Itachi, he waited for a response.

"She is under my care. I'd like to be kept privy on her physical condition."

Sakura forced herself not to cast a glance at Itachi, knowing full well that his eyes were upon her. Ignoring him, she slowly slipped out of her ragged clothing, standing when the doctor asked her to. He gently prodded at her wounds, applying various salves to them, rotating the joint at her left shoulder where it had dislocated several days ago and she had merely popped it back into place.

He also poked and prodded at more private places, as was his job, and she endured without complaint, ever aware of the dark-haired Uchiha's heavy gaze from across the room. She shuddered lightly, then blocked him from her thoughts.

When he was done, Kenishi gave her a friendly smile, and presented her with simple clothing from a cabinet along the wall. The material was soft and black. The pants were a little big, lying low on her hips when she tugged them on. She snatched the breast band from her discarded pile of clothing, relieved when it was in place, slipping the shirt over her head.

"All seems well," Kenishi pronounced, "Damage done in the dungeons aside, of course. Be careful of that shoulder, and put on some weight, girl. You're all skin and bones." He sent her out of the room, catching Itachi before he could follow. His eyes hardened slightly. His voice held a note of warning. "I've seen how you treat others when training. Don't be so harsh on this one. Wait until she's healed up. If I find her back here because you've done something, I won't be happy."

Itachi nodded tersely, and left the infirmary, pink-haired kunoichi following behind.

* * *

The next morning found Itachi moving down the hallways silently, mere presence causing most he passed to move as far from him as possible. He entered the trainee's wing, stepping past a group of younger shinobi, moving to the door of the girl. He did not bother to knock, but opened the door without preamble, eyes immediately adjusting to the darkness. 

He saw her curled up in the bed, sheet wrapped tightly about herself. Jerking the curtain back, he allowed light to flood the small space, frowning when she didn't wake. He stepped over to the bed and kicked the frame, hard enough to knock one leg free of it. The unsupported corner tipped the bed haphazardly, hitting the ground with a thump and causing her to tumble from the mattress.

She made a sound of protest, and a tousled pink head popped from the sheets. Shaking her head, she cleared the pink strands from her face, looking up at the figure of Itachi with cloudy green eyes.

"Members of the Akatsuki do not have the privilege of sleeping late," he commented with crossed arms and a slightly raised eyebrow.

She rose from the cocoon of warm blankets and rubbing at her eyes, groping about for her pants. She yanked them on unsteadily, tied the drawstring and looked at him expectantly.

He led her in a different direction than he had before, pushing open a set of double doors and letting the sunlight stream in. She stepped onto the springy grass and inhaled the fragrant air. The warm sunlight streamed down her body, lighting her hair and warming her cool skin.

Itachi waited, letting her have her moment, watching her lips quirk in some semblance of a smile. She breathed deeply once more, then turned to him, eyes brighter than he could remember them ever being.

He shifted, pulling off his cloak, then producing from it a small bundle. "Here is your breakfast." He then set both on a nearby rock. "But you must earn it." He heard her mumble something along the lines of _"I knew there was a catch,"_ and smirked. "I will test you in the three main areas of skill: taijutsu, genjutsu and ninjutsu. When I feel you are proficient in these fields, then you will eat."

Several hours later, he had to admit, she was indeed skilled. The reputation she had built for herself was built entirely upon fact, not rumor or exaggeration. He tossed the bundle of food to her and she dropped heavily to the ground, digging in immediately. An apple came sailing at his head, and catching it effortlessly, he caught her eyes. She lowered her hand and wiped the juice from a pear off her chin, turning back to her meal.

He looked down at the red fruit in his hand, rubbing it absently with his thumb. He thought that perhaps training this Haruno Sakura wouldn't be such a bad thing. She was skilled; she came at him with the intent to kill while training, something that very few of his sparring partners were capable of. She could possibly present him with a challenge, were she polished enough. Also, he could tell she was a woman of spirit. In due time, she would put up a little resistance. He relished the idea.

Biting into the apple, he was pleased by its sweetness.

As he ate, he was aware of her watching him, felt her eyes traveling along his form, studying him. He turned and quirked his eyebrows, eyeing her with his red stare. She sniffed and looked away, watching a bird flutter across the sky. Itachi allowed himself a tiny smile. There was the spirit he sensed in her, surfacing. It wouldn't be too long now.

"Come now, girl. Your break is over, but the day is far from done." He tossed the apple core into the brush. She groaned softly, dropped the empty cloth bag into the grass and rolled her shoulders. Stretching her arms above her head, she moved to face him.

"Ready for another go, huh? You know how the saying goes, burned twice and you're the fool."

The fresh air, food and exercise certainly had perked her up. Itachi moved into a taijutsu stance, deciding that he would analyze her more closely this time. He hadn't known Kakashi to be so good in that area, yet the man's former pupil was outstanding. She must have gone to a master and learned from him.

She didn't wait for him to be ready, already moving in quickly. She aimed a kick low to his side, which he blocked easily, recognized as a feint, then blocked the fist aimed at his face. Her mouth was set in a grim line, concentration evident on her face.

Itachi swiped his hand towards the side of her neck, aiming for a point that could throw her into unconsciousness if hit right. The outer side of her forearm snapped up, halting the attack, and in the blink of an eye, had slipped down so that her hand could clamp onto his wrist. Drawing back her free arm, she fisted the hand, then shot it forward, slamming it into his chest, then spreading it out. Pushing a little chakra into her hand, she sent him a little jolt, enough to send him stumbling slightly.

Realizing she shouldn't have used that little bit of chakra as her legs shook, she smiled ruefully to herself and looked up at her sparring partner. He was down on one knee, panting lightly, looking at her steadily.

"Who taught you how to do that?" He didn't hide the inquisitive edge from his voice.

It hurt her to answer. Any mention of her past stabbed her like a knife. "The 5th Hokage of Konoha."

"Interesting." He stood up, brushing his pants off, rubbing at his sore side through the mesh shirt. She'd hit him a good one there earlier on. "Now, let's take this up another level…"

Hours later, as Sakura collapsed in her bed after eating the dinner left in her room, she found herself to be smiling wider than she had in years. Oh yes, the plan was in motion; it was going far smoother than she could have imagined.

And, it didn't hurt that she was having fun beating the crap out of Uchiha Itachi at the same time.

* * *

_Yeah...In case no one knew this, "sensei" doesn't just mean teacher. It's used quite often to address masters of a craft or trade and professinals of certain fields, like doctors_. 

_Eurgh. I had such horrible issues spelling 'kunoichi'.  
_


	4. Sleeping Arrangements

**A/N:** _Woah. Almost forgot to update this. _

_Crud. I'm out of backup chapters now, and chapter five is just making me mad. It's been an ungodly amount of time since I started it, and still it remains only halfway done. _

_Anyways, onto the story. I've got some more notes for the end, like answering some questions or making comments on reviews. For now, just enjoy, and as always, thank you for reading! _

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* * *

_

Barely a week had gone by, and already Itachi found himself withholding less and less from their training. He was so involved in learning the girl's methods and techniques that he hadn't even begun teaching her new skills yet. When her chakra supply had regenerated completely, he found himself hard-pressed to defeat her. She had the most precise and total control over her energies, enabling her to manipulate them in a number of unthinkable and complex ways.

It made him almost glad that he had told Iwa not to kill her.

Moving down to the mess hall to pick up a packed breakfast, he mused about what type of creative way he should wake her with today. As much as he hated to admit it, the morning ceremony had turned into a game that he somewhat enjoyed. Once he had even gone so far as to set up an intricate system of thin, silver wires the night before, so that when he opened her door to awaken her the next morning, she would be jerked up to the ceiling by her feet. He still sported a bruise on his back from when she had thrown things at him in retaliation.

Her door creaked open when he gave it a light push, and he stopped. She was reclining on the deep windowsill, a book laying open in her lap. Aside from physical training, he had given her extensive reading materials to peruse, make note of and in some cases, memorize.

Her head was tilted back onto the stone frame, and her eyes were closed. Her pink hair was mussed and knotted about her shoulders. Before he could move into the room to awaken her in some rude form, her eyes snapped open, and she pinpointed them on him immediately. She blinked a few times, glanced down at her book, then closed it and tossed it to the bed.

He glanced at the title. Ah, so she hadn't been asleep. "Practicing the chakra alert barrier?" he gestured to the book as she attempted to pat her hair down.

"Yeah," she frowned, tugging at a knot, "Only, I thought it didn't work when you were sleeping. To make a maai barrier you have to be conscious, right? The book said it wasn't recorded as an accomplished feat."

Now Itachi frowned, sitting on her wobbly bed. _She _had_ been sleeping? _"It's not…" He trailed off, watching pensively as she growled, swiped a kunai off her tiny bedside table and sheared her hair off at the chin neatly. She dusted the loose pink strands from her shoulders, and gave him a shrug.

"Easier this way. Did it back when I was in an exam, once," she replied, hefting the food package he had dropped on the mattress. This time he followed silently as she led the way to the outside training field.

They spent a good part of the morning going over taijutsu partner sets, a style created by the Akatsuki. It was used for a two-man team when besieged by many opponents at once. The style demanded that both partners be in perfect sync with each other, moving in different basic shapes coupled with complex moves about an invisible center.

"Break!" Sakura gasped after a particularly difficult maneuver. Itachi was inclined to agree. He dropped onto a grassy patch under a tree and watched her move over the to tiny stream that ran through a rock bed across the clearing. She bent to cup water in her hands and drink, then again to pour the water over her head. She came back looking slightly less flushed than before.

She dropped down onto a flat mossy rock a few feet from him. "I'm hungry," she told the sky, stretching out along the rock to absorb its warmth.

"Not my problem," replied Itachi, reaching up to untie his headband and rub the sweat from underneath.

She resisted the urge to stick her tongue out at him, instead muttering some obscenity paired with his name. She rose tiredly and grabbed the empty food cloth. "I'm going to the kitchens for lunch. Want me to bring you anything?" He merely grumbled, and she moved away.

She had disappeared into the building when Itachi felt something soft brush his neck. Reaching up, he plucked at whatever it was, and his hand came away pink. It was a lock of the girl's hair. It must have lodged in his shirt collar when she brushed it off herself earlier on.

Thoughtfully, he rubbed it between his rough fingers, watching as a few strands dislodged from the main bundle and drifted away on the breeze. It smelled faintly of whatever hair supplies were provided in the women's showers. In the background, he heard the doors to the building open, and he sensed her coming. Quickly, he shoved the hair into his pocket.

She plopped back down onto the rock, sifted through the new bag, brought out some food for herself, then tossed the sack to Itachi. He went right for the apple she left for him. And like the all the times preceding it, ever since she had come, when he bit the apple, it was sweeter than any other he could remember eating.

* * *

Light was glowing through the thin blinds of Itachi's small room. He was still lost in a pleasant dosing, caught between the world of the awake and asleep. His mind foggy, he didn't quite register the faint click as the door opened, or the equally quiet sound of it closing. 

Drawing in a deep breath, Sakura placed her lips right alongside his ear. She prepared herself to scream at the top of her lungs "ATTACK! WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!" but had barely gotten the "ah" out before she was pinned to the floor, large hands holding hers down, foggy red eyes peering into hers.

Swiftly regaining her bearings, she used a quirk jerk of the body to switch their positions, seeing his sleepy eyes suddenly grow sharp as she held the kunai to his neck, straddling his waist, efficiently holding him down.

She smiled at him widely, seeing the recognition in his eyes. "Didn't think I could beat you at your own game, did you?" Of course, she shouldn't have let her guard down to say that, she realized later on, because in a flash, she was once again under him.

"Don't count your chicks before they hatch, woman," he replied softly, one corner of his mouth quirking. She pouted at him, then glanced down, probably trying to find a way of escape.

And that was when she became aware of his preference to sleeping in the nude.

She was still faintly red when he found her on the training grounds. He didn't have a chance to gloat, because she snapped, "Can it," before he could get a word in edgewise. She continued riddling the practice dummy before her with any sharp projectile she could find in her weapon pouch.

The engaged in a furious bout of training, using any and all skills to dominate over the other. Itachi had to fight not to provoke her, but was pleased all the same to see that her face was still flushed, and not from her exertions. She missed his catlike grin. He disappeared from in front of her.

Suddenly, there was a pleasant warmth pressed against her from behind, a hand on her waist and another grasping her forearm. The fingers at her waist stroked lightly through the thin material of her shirt. The other hand slid up her arm slowly, moving to her neck to brush the pink hair away, then to her throat, grasping it lightly. Breath fanned across her skin. Her last kunai fell from nerveless fingers.

She trembled, breath shuddering quickly from her chest. Her eyes fluttered shut as Itachi's arm wrapped about her waist, pulling her closer to his firm chest. She damn near choked when she felt soft lips against the side of her neck.

As suddenly as he had grabbed her, he released her, leaving her to stumble to the ground. She looked up at him through hazy, half-lidded eyes. He twirled her kunai in his long fingers. They stared at one another for long moments before Sakura finally spoke, waiting till her light panting abated.

"Jerk."

He made sure she saw his grin, letting it reach his usually cold eyes. "The end justifies the means, my dear."

* * *

"You requested my presence, sir?" 

"Ah, Uchiha." Iwa looked up from his work. "Yes, I called for you. Have a seat." He gestured to the seat facing the desk. The young man seated himself gracefully. Setting down his pen and folding his hands on the desktop, Iwa watched the man steadily. "The girl; how is she faring? It's been nearly a month."

"Sir?"

Iwa sat back. "She interfered with our operations for months, then the very same night we first give chase, she is captured. It seems odd to me that such a skilled missing-nin should fall into our hands so easily. She gave no information away during her time in her cell. When you attempted to question her, she threw off your spell. Why would she be so protective if she has nothing to hide?"

* * *

"_And my objective?"_

"_Use any means necessary to get yourself inside their main base of operations. Once inside, do as you see fit in order to gather information on who is running the organization."_

"_And when I have gained a sufficient amount?"_

"_Take them out. Cripple the syndicate by getting rid of its leaders in one swoop."_

She didn't bother asking what would happen after the big shots were killed. They both knew that, even if she survived the mission, it was unlikely that her home would welcome her back.

* * *

He closed the office door gently behind him. Certainly he had considered the idea that she was deceiving them all, yet he had not expected it to affect him so strongly when hearing it spoken by another. 

Shinobi were trained in the art of deception, trained with the ability to lie with an impenetrable poker face. Frailer and more innocent looking women than Sakura could put up a false front, endorse lies and foster fake identities. Yet…

Bright, talented, witty Sakura…

How could she possibly be his enemy?

* * *

_"Gain their trust. Integrate yourself. Make it seem that you could never cause them harm."_

* * *

Sakura sat alone on one of the side porches of the complex. Her legs dangled off the edge, bare toes skimming the grass and warm dirt below. Warm light tumbled about her; a soft breeze stirred her pink hair to life. Her green eyes were open and unguarded, watching with curiosity as the men on the far side of the field sparred. 

They moved in graceful and fluid arches and turns, light reflecting off their weaponry. Those who were resting on the grass cheered their comrades on. Watching them work together and enjoy one another's company made Sakura suddenly feel the sharp tang of alienation. The bitter taste of the solitude she had lived for so long flooded her mouth, threatened to fill her eyes.

Softly, he sidled up to her, presence not so dark due to the sunny day. He stood beside her and spoke not a word, and she felt strangely comforted by his silence. Almost at the same time, she looked up, and he looked down, green meeting red, the two stares locking for what seemed to be an eternity.

She saw it coming but made no move to stop it. His fingers brushed lightly underneath her eye, first one, then the other. He bent close to her face, his being surrounding her, filling her senses.

Eyes still on hers, he spoke in a whisper. "I've never seen you cry. Don't start now."

His fingers briefly touched her jaw, and then he was gone.

* * *

_Woah. OO; Itachi wasn't **supposed** to be all touchy-feely, but lo and behold, he is. Just kinds came out that way, and I won't change it. I write on whim and fancy, and so shall I always. _

_ Ok, **Isiri** asked me if I had a soundtrack for the fic. And so, after grinning at her entusiastic and lovely review, I jotted down some titles. Here's some songs that make me think of Itachi and Sakura, either as a pair or individually:  
_Do You Believe Me? by Juliana Theory  
My Sweet Prince by Placebo  
My Love Has Gone by Dido (Not so much the lyrics, but more the mood - it's really melancholy and somewhat bittersweet)  
And, completely by accident, while I was writing, I popped in the movie _Daredevil_ soundtrack. Some of the songs totally fit, others just lent a really nice background for me to write to.  
Another thing I listen to when writing is Trance/Techno/Electronic music. There's not alot in the lyrics department, so I don't really have to pay close attention, letting me get into the writing. Some artists I love are Delerium, DJ Tiesto (the mixes ROCK), and dj GT.

_There are so many more, but I don't really want to dig them up. I'll probably keep a sort of "soundtrack for this chapter" for each update, just so you guys know what songs brought the mood and element._

_ **saika-chan** - Does their...interaction in this chapter assure you that this is an Ita/Saku? Hold no doubts. my friend. :P_

_**animEvivvErz** - The phrase "Fear the Kunoichi" has taken on new meaning. >D_

_**ppiglette** - Thanks! Of course, taking the time to be meaningful makes for short chapters and short stories, hah. But I'm cool wit' dat, yo._

_**darkninjafromhell** - Hell yeah - Sakura's kickass! She's totally thrashed in the fandom. People need to appreciate her and her strengths more.  
_

_ And to everyone else - Thank you so much for the encouragement! I loves you all!  
_


	5. The Siren's Song

_Soundtrack for this chapter (albums):  
_Elliot Smith - _either/or  
_The Mars Volta - _De-Loused in the Comatorium  
__Also random mixes that friends have made, consisting of various rock artists and techno/trance sets._

_Whew. Took me absolutely _forever_ to write this. Sorry! It's just been so crazy - I haven't been getting in till ten/eleven at night, and I've got loads of stuff to do once I get in. That doesn't leave much time for me to write. _

_I just noticed that my chapter formats are all different – sometimes I put a title at the top, sometimes I don't. D'oh._

_Enjoy, everyone._

* * *

And for months it lasted, the early morning wake-ups, the training, and the studying. Sakura found herself learning more in those few months than she did in an entire year in the academy. Her entire body had grown even leaner, stronger. She could pull up a more massive reserve of chakra, and regenerate it much faster. She was mastering new jutsu almost every day, ranging throughout all the elements and illusions. Her taijutsu had improved by leaps and bounds so vastly that her limbs were mere blurs when in motion. 

And it was all thanks to one Uchiha Itachi.

She was intrigued, to be seeing a different side to the man who had supposedly killed his whole clan but for one. Growing up, all she had heard about him was what kind of a monster her was, of how much dreadful power he abused. Sure, the man was frightening - only a fool wouldn't fear him to some degree - but he was also wise and calm and, however odd the trait seemed on him, fair. It was a shocker to discover that the man had a sense of humor, too; though, it wasn't all "knock-knock" jokes – it was dry, sardonic and sarcastic. Sakura enjoyed bantering with him, baiting one another with biting and oftentimes insulting comments. She hated to be cliché, but their nitpicking really made a connection. It was much easier to talk to him and work with him now than it was before they spent all day insulting one another.

Which in Sakura-inner-monologue speech, translated to: Well, he's an asshole, but he's one cool sonuvabitch.

And aforementioned sonuvabitch was out on a mission, leaving her with almost nothing to do. He'd told her, between scathing remarks, that it wasn't going to take all that long, and it was to help prep for another mission. One that she would be accompanying him on.

The idea filled her with a strange mix of trepidation and elation. All her hard work, all the lies and bloodshed; they had led to this moment, when she would be considered one of the organization and able to kill under their name. Able to access information she would be otherwise denied.

It had rained heavily for the past week, and Itachi had left when it was at its worst. The soil was all mud littered with thick, tall grass that reached out and tangled you in the stalks, pulling you into the mire. One of the trainees that Sakura had spoken with on several occasions actually lost his shoes in the mess.

Rolling her neck and shoulders, feeling them crack and pop, she unfolded her legs and stepped away from the window ledge. Her arms came up, fingers lacing together behind her head, and she vacated the quiet room. The mess hall was nearly dead, so she took up residence in one of the corners, taking her time with lunch and letting her eyes slide over the words of the text she was supposed to be studying.

She finally ended up sprawling on one of the back porches, lying along the cool wood on her stomach, chin propped up in her palm. The book lay open before her, and she'd been on the same sentence for the last fifteen minutes.

"You look like a kicked puppy."

Her head jerked off her hand at the low rumble, eyes snapping fully open. A slim figure stood on the porch stairs, watching her. She made a vague sound of indifference when she made out whom it was. She went back to her book and didn't look back up again until the sound of muddy feet approaching started.

"Miss me?" Itachi's red eyes stared down at her.

She shrugged the best she could in her position. "What, you were gone?"

"I'll take that as a yes," he replied smoothly, stepping over her prone form, letting his cloak drag over her as he passed. He sidestepped her arm when she tried to trip him. "As much as your antics amuse me, I'm needed elsewhere. I'll find you later."

"I'm thrilled," Sakura mumbled, turning the page.

When he finally found her again, she was curled up on her bed, sharpening knives and kunai. He slipped in quietly, tossed a package onto the coverlet and sank onto the wide window ledge. She looked up and raised one thin, pink eyebrow. He made a gesture that silently told her to open it.

Her fingers tugged the string binding off the paper-wrapped lump, peeling back the flaps. Dark material tumbled into her lap. Holding up what looked to be a shirt, she looked back up at Itachi. "What's this?"

"You uniform. You're to wear it from now on."

A small thrill worked its way down Saukra's spine. In her hands was physical proof that she had successfully integrated herself into the Akatsuki. Something unidentifiable swelled in her chest as her fingers lightly traced along the red cloud stitched on the breast of the shirt.

She didn't smile, but Itachi could feel how pleased she was.

And unfortunately, he didn't find anything suspicious about it.

* * *

A messenger had delivered the summons to Iwa's office; she was to come to him, in full uniform, that evening. Probably to get instructions for her upcoming assignment, she mused while stepping into the legs of her new pants. 

The clothing was form fitting, but loose enough for her to be able to move efficiently. She tuckered her shirt into her pants, fingering the stitching above her heart for a moment before she hastily tied the sash about her waist. She fixed her collar as she trekked down the halls. The shirt didn't stop at her neck; instead, it formed an attached mask that would cover the lower half of her face. She folded it down, since she wouldn't be wearing it for the meeting.

She hesitantly strolled into Iwa's small reception room, the man behind the desk looking up immediately upon her entry. "Can I help you?"

She shuffled over to him. "Yeah. I was sent for a little while ago." The man nodded, and moved past her to the closed doors on the right. He announced her arrival, then ushered her inside the room.

Sakura came up to the man's large desk, bowing at the waist. "Good evening, Iwa-sama. I have come, as per request."

"Take a seat." His hand swept out to indicate the chair across from his desk. Sakura slipped into her seat, finally taking the time to acknowledge the presence of her mentor in the chair beside her. She kept her attention away from him, and he seemed to be doing likewise to her.

Iwa's voice was a monotonous droll as he laid out the plans to their assignment. He went over the background and history of their target, the layout of his residence and place of work, as well as any other information that Itachi and Sakura would need.

Eventually, the man turned his entire focus on Sakura. She met his small, dark eyes unwaveringly. "This is your first mission as a member of our organization. You wear our uniform. Let the red cloud on your breast act as a warning – should you fail or betray us, a blade will find its way to that cloud and the flesh beneath it."

Sakura dipped her head in a slow nod, keeping her eyes on his the whole time, not bringing her head up as high when she was done with the motion.

Itachi watched the exchange coolly, catching a small feel of the girl's forced humility. She was a good actress. He allowed her to pull ahead of him as they left the room, passing through the reception room and into the hallways. As they went, he found his eyes traveling across her shoulders, down the slender column of her back and hips, then her legs. He dragged his eyes up slowly to follow the flutter of her pink hair.

Contrary to popular opinion, he wasn't without any feeling. He was a man like any other, and he had to admit to himself that she _did_ look good in that uniform. It clung quite nicely –

She stopped and turned around suddenly. "What?" she snapped, hands on her hips and green eyes narrowed. He raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch. "You haven't stopped staring at me since we left the office."

He let her green eyes stay on his for a few moments, and then pushed past her, replying at he went. "You feign docility well, woman."

He could tell that she didn't like the answer, but she accepted it begrudgingly. "Yeah, well, it's all about the womanly wiles."

He left her to pack whatever she needed, returning as dusk faded along the horizon. She had a grim air about her, mouth set in a flat line, eyes dark and thoughtful. Alone, the two started out under cover of darkness, moving with fleet, sure strides through the wilderness. They didn't bother with the excess of conversation; it would serve only as a distraction and a waste of energy. Besides, they didn't have anything nice to say to the other, and if one didn't have something nice to say, one shouldn't say anything at all.

They traveled quite some distance through the night, stopping on the outskirts of the targeted town at dawn. They meandered through the almost empty streets silently, opting to keep their heads low and stay off the radar for as long as they could.

Finally, Sakura and Itachi halted at a local inn, intent on finding themselves a few hours of deserved rest. The hostess handed them keys and led them through the communal dining room to their rooms, ushering them inside and offering any service she could. They declined assistance, closed their doors, and made sure they were secured tightly. It wouldn't do to have someone break in while they were sleeping.

Sakura dropped her pack with a thud, hearing an answering thud through the thin wall when Itachi dropped his. Her bed creaked lightly as she eased into it, muscles burning tiredly. She wasted no time in falling asleep.

* * *

Sakura popped open the door to the tiny adjoining bathroom, stretching her arms high above her head. Steam billowed around her, and she sighed happily, not minding the heat of the bedroom at all. Her damp pink hair was a shade darker from the water, dripping liquid onto her bare shoulders. The droplets ran down the indent of her back, tickling the base of her spine as she sung lowly, continuing the tune she had begun during her shower. 

The warmth in the room seemed to drop a few degrees when she met her partner's red stare from the area of the room where her bed lay. He sat on the edge of the mattress, arms crossed across his mesh-covered shirt, coolly observing her.

She hardened immediately, glowering as she shuffled to her pack. Digging around for clothing, she sent a sharp glare his way. "Do you make it a habit to invite yourself into girl's rooms and then ogle them while they're naked?"

He made a gruff noise in his throat. "I see nothing worth ogling. Do you?" The extra wiggle she put into her hips as she slipped on pants wasn't lost on him. He watched her dress, following the column of her smooth back, loosing his focus in her damp pink hair. He tried not to think about what was buzzing around his head. He wasn't so cold; he was a man like any other, only better at hiding what he was feeling. And he found himself hard-pressed, more and more frequently, to hide what kind of things she was making him feel. What man _wouldn't_ react to having an attractive, naked woman, within arm's reach?

Sakura was running a brush quickly through her hair when his hands were sliding along her sides. She paused, but did not jerk away. One hand brushed up along her ribs, ghosting across her breast, settling there and cupping gently. The other hand spread open on her hip, fingers lightly rubbing through the material of her clothes to the heated skin below. She could feel him sidle up behind her, pressing and touching, his breath fanning across her neck, his nose pushing into her hair. She shivered agreeably. To think that a man so deadly could touch so softly…

She turned to face him just as he began tugging her backwards; she ended up straddling his lap while he perched on the bed, hands moving up to tangle deep in her hair, giving him the hold he needed to tip her head back. His mouth descended on her neck, biting hard, soft, and everything in between, tongue snaking out to taste her skin, making her sigh and press harder against him. He stifled a groan as she unconsciously created friction at their joined hips.

Warmth was growing in Sakura's belly, warmth she knew, and welcomed. Biting her lip as he sank his teeth lightly into the juncture of her shoulder and neck, she rocked harder against him, daring to snake a hand into his hair, cradling the back of his head, while the other gripped tightly at his shoulder.

Her mouth dry, she nudged his cheek, letting her breath blow across his ear before she took the lobe into her mouth. As she nipped and sucked, his mouth paused on her neck, and his fingers idly traced along her hair and neck, eventually sliding lower to clutch at her hips, jerking them against him in a harsher rhythm.

As they moved faster, Sakura tensed and relaxed alternately, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her face hard against him, moaning softly through a clenched jaw, lips trembling. She felt lips against her ear, brushing her skin as they moved. His voice, strained and in a tone she had never heard, was what broke her, catapulting her over the edge just before the world shattered into a million pieces.

Of course he would find some way to jab fun at her, in his own little way, even in such a heavy moment.

_"Maybe it was your horrifying siren's song that pulled me so close…"_

_I do _not_ sing badly,_ was all she managed to piece together before she slipped into darkness.

* * *

_Erm, well, yes. Yet again, Itachi's gone and done whatever the hell he wants. The mission was supposed to be in this chapter But I don't think little ol' Sakura-chan is going to complain... _

_**ppiglette: **Yeah, I got what you mean about the whole 'literate' thing. Comes from being a complete and total bookworm/nerd who eats literature for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Heh.  
_

_**kookey: **You comment cracked me up! I was laughing for a good ten minutes. (gives you a tissue for the nosebleed) Oops - I never noticed that "the" "they" typo. Thanks, for pointing out that mistake._

_ **Youko Mitsutama:** Hee. ;3 (loves you back) Glad you like!_

_I huggle **Isiri** for all the great emails she sent, the ideas she's lent and the overall enjoyment she's sent my way. Thank you, dear! _


End file.
